The single hound : poems of a lifetime | ||
83
[LXXVII. I watched her face to see which way]
I watched her face to see which wayShe took the awful news,
Whether she died before she heard—
Or in protracted bruise
Remained a few short years with us,
Each heavier than the last—
A further afternoon to fail,
As Flower at fall of Frost.
The single hound : poems of a lifetime | ||